


Of Trust and Triads

by OfSecretHearts



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Communication Failure, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Enemas, Established Relationship, F/M, Idiots in Love, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Multi, Panic Attack, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Prostate Milking, Subdrop, Subspace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:26:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfSecretHearts/pseuds/OfSecretHearts
Summary: Every once in a while Tim needs to be taken out of his own head, and Stephanie is more than happy to give him a hand. Jason Todd, on the other hand, is about to learn a lot more about Tim and Stephanie's sex life than he wants to know......Or does he? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧





	1. Chapter 1

She'd been waiting for an hour.

A whole hour while Tim babbled off in the kitchen and then the living room about his new case. She tracked him by sound, one finger tapping away on her bare thigh. Now he was in the hallway. Now he was in the spare bedroom. And now he was back in the living room.

Honestly, she loved him and his big brain but a girl had needs. Stephanie stretched her foot out to the desk and used her big toe to slam the drawer shut, making just enough noise for Tim to wander into her room to make sure she was listening. She quickly curled back up in her spot and kept clipping her nails, pretending she hadn't been waiting for him for the last decade and a half.

"...And I've managed to narrow down the location to..." Tim's voice cut off with in a strangled choke.

Stephanie hid her smile behind a curtain of blonde hair and clipped off another crescent moon from her nails. When her smile was under control, she looked up, shaking her head to knock her hair back over her shoulder. Tim stood in the doorway to her bedroom, one hand clenched on the door handle. Every inch of him was wound up like a spring. His face was completely blank and Stephanie might have felt unnerved if not for the way he stared at the nail clippers as she moved from finger to finger. His eyes locked onto the sharp metal teeth as she clipped off a rough edge and ran her finger over the end to make sure there was nothing that would snag.

Stephanie lifted her thumb to her lips and sucked on it, flicked her tongue out so Tim could watch her lick her nail. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. She entertained the thought of letting him stand there until he snapped, but she was dressed up in a long t-shirt that hit her thighs, curled up on her bed with her pink polk-a-dot panties half soaked from anticipation and he'd kept her waiting for an hour. She was cold and turned on and so past ready to get started. Steph pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a wet pop. "Tim," she said, soft and sweet. "Why don't you go clean up."

Tim's eyes flickered up, the numbers still clicking away behind his eyes, that steady calculating tic-tic-tic that made Tim so dangerous. But she could also see the hint of glaze that made her want to preen.

Stephanie tilted her chin to her bathroom, where the enema was already prepped and hanging on the towel rack next to her pink hand towels and mismatched butterfly curtain and over the yoga mat she'd laid out beside the tub. Tim swallowed and turned to the bathroom, already loosening his tie and throwing his suit jacket over the chair in the corner. She'd expected him to be late, even if not quite this late, so the enema would still be warm. Stephanie took a moment to cut the remainder of her nails and run a file over any rough spots. She dusted off the clippings into the trashcan and straightened her shirt. Then she stepped off the bed and followed him into the bathroom.

Tim knelt on the floor naked, the nozzle already slicked up and inserted into his hole, ass up and shoulders pressed to the ground. He tilted his forehead into the mat as she walked up, a flush spreading from his neck up to his ears. Stephanie sank onto the ground next to him, her legs crossed, and ran a finger down his spine, from his shoulders to the dimples over his tailbone. Tim's skin shivered, muscles bunching and releasing, a flood of goosebumps following her touch.

She followed the path again, smiling as his blush spread over his shoulders and down his back, and then slipped her finger down to the tight pink furl. As her finger rubbed his asshole, a gentle touch meant to remind him she was there, Tim's breath caught and released. He shifted his weight onto his shoulders, his thighs bunching and releasing as he spread his legs wider.

Stephanie grabbed the exposed white length of the nozzle and shifted it, tugging it in and pulling it out just enough to see his furl stretch around the flared end. She played with it for a bit, enjoying the way Tim's breath hitched ever time she moved to tug it out. At last, she pushed it in a little further than he liked it and reached up to loosen the clamp. As the water slowly emptied from the bag into his rectum and intestines, Tim whimpered. He hated enemas as much as he loved the vulnerability, being on display. Even now he was trying to inch his knees apart, lift himself up so she could see everything, the small wrinkled entrance, the darker taint down leading to his balls and soft cock.

Stephanie slid her hand down over his belly and rubbed firmly against the slight tightening that, if his abs were less firm, would have been a bulge. Each firm press sent the water rushing through his inner walls, cleaning him out. She shush him gently as he moaned. "There you are, you beautiful boy," she said. "So good for me." Tim gasped and turned his face toward her, blue eyes fixed on her face. The numbers were still running, but slower. "Almost done, gorgeous. You're so good, Tim. You're perfect." His eyes fluttered and closed, his mouth falling open, silently pulling in air. "God, you're beautiful. Just a few minutes, Tim. That's it."

They stayed there, Tim on his knees with his ass in the air, belly full of warm water, Stephanie kneeling beside him as she ran her hands over his skin, tracing invisible pictures across his stomach, back, and hips.

"Okay," she said eventually, her hand sliding to the white length sticking out from his asshole. "Clench tight for me, boy wonder."

Tim hummed, tension returning to his back. Stephanie rubbed the furl one more time and then slowly started pulling out the nozzle. Still feeling playful, she gave it a few false tugs, just enough to make that frustrated wrinkle form between Tim's eyebrows, then she patted his hip with an open palm and pulled it out.

Immediately, Tim surged up and to the toilet, his face flushing deep red. "I can do this part alone," he said, legs clenched together as he waited for her to leave. Stephanie kissed the top of his head and closed the door behind her.

She pulled the lube out from her dresser and stripped the bedspread and blankets. Part of her thought mournfully of her freshly washed sheets, but not enough for her to dig out a towel. Stephanie kind of liked the feeling she got in her stomach when Tim made her bed all sloppy and slick. Lastly, she pulled out a butt plug, small and purple, about the size of two of her fingers. After a lot of trial and error, they'd learned Tim didn't really care about size as much as he did technique. He liked being stretched and then forced to tighten down on something too small for his slack muscles to grip.

The bathroom door creaked open and Tim stepped out, still naked and flushed. She didn't bother to ask him if he was clean, just turned so she was half kneeling on the bed and opened her arms. Tim practically leapt from the bathroom into her arms, burrowing down into her chest, his face pressed against the cradle of her neck and shoulder. One hand fisted into the hem of her shirt, the other wrapped around her waist and grabbed a hand full of the fabric at her back. Stephanie fell back against the wall of pillows against the headboard, pulling him down with her. She grabbed his chin and lifted his lips and kissed him, open mouthed and dirty, wet and slick, licking into his mouth until she could feel backs of his teeth with her tongue.

Tim hummed low in his throat and pressed up into the kiss. His mouth moved against hers, slow and kind of clumsy. He was dropping fast. She sucked his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down hard, careful not to cut. Tim yelped, and sighed when she sucked the pain away. She pulled and pushed him until he lay with his hips bracketed by her legs, his naked ass exposed to the air. Stephanie bent her knees and hooked her ankles over his legs, forced him to part his thighs.

There was something so heady about laying here, half clothed while Tim lay naked and exposed, the cold air teasing his skin. She slid her right hand down over his shoulders and pressed her fingers into the dimples on his back while her left hand fumbled for the bottle of lube. The click of the cap made him press closer to Stephanie, kiss her just a little harder, his feet shifting restlessly on the sheets like he wanted to squirm. Stephanie paused to focus on just kissing him, letting him taste her, breathe in as she breathed out. She controlled the kiss, gentled it, kept her back firm so he couldn't climb higher and take over.

She poured the slick over her fingers and slipped down to rub between his cheeks. Tim's hips jerked against hers, but Stephanie kept the slide of her index finger smooth and slow, circling ever closer to the place he wanted them. She flexed her legs and pulled his hips into hers, encouraging him to rub against her clit. Tim's hips moved slow and weak and Stephanie paused, fighting against the urge to frown.

She pulled back a bit, her clean left hand threading into his hair and pulling his face away to check his eyes. Tim watched her back through a wall of molasses, the numbers quiet and slow, dial-up rather than HD Wi-Fi. He'd dropped into subspace fast, way too fast. Stephanie angled her hips just enough that he no longer brushed against her clit and risked setting off her orgasm. It'd been too long since they'd done this, clearly, and she needed to focus. She tightened her grip in his hair and twisted it tight as she finally pressed her finger into the flex and give of his asshole.

Tim's mouth dropped, his tongue pink and wet. A string of saliva stretched and broke as he gasped, silent and open. He was tight around her knuckle, tighter still as she pulled out, clenching around her to make her stay. Stephanie clicked her tongue and pulled out completely, prompting him to whimper, his eyes fluttering as his hips moved back, trying to follow her.

"My sweet boy," she said, dropping kisses on the corner of his open mouth, the tip of his nose, the sharp edge of his jaw. "Beautiful. I'll take care of you...relax, Tim." She tightened her grip in his hair, enough that it must be stinging his scalp, and pressed into his hole again.

There was something so intimate about this. About Tim laying boneless over her, his eyes glazed, mouth hanging while she opened his hole, pressed her finger into that tight pucker and crooked it, sliding her fingertip along the silk of his inner walls. She rocked her finger in and out until the tight grip relaxed, and then pressed in with her middle finger.

It was a tighter fit, the time between these moments enough for Tim to re-tighten completely. His eyebrows lifted as his jaw clicked shut and Stephanie knew it was a little less comfortable. She released his hair to pour more slick over his taint and down his crack, over the two fingers sliding in and out of his body. She tilted her hips and Tim began to rock into her and back onto her fingers, impaling himself, his cock thrusting against her panties. She didn't even bother to force her ring finger into the tight furl. She just lined it up and enjoyed the way his eyes widened as he felt the added pressure on his next thrust backward.

"Ah..." he gasped, eyes wide and unseeing. He stilled his hips against her finger tip and then slowly pressed back, forcing her ring finger through his rim. "Ah...ah." He was feeling the stretch now, his asshole clenching around her knuckles like a rubber-band. If she could see it, she knew his rim would be all smooth and taught around the first two knuckles, turning pink from the friction. Tim spread his knees a little more and forced his hips back, taking her deeper.

"That's it, baby," she whispered into his ear. "Fuck yourself. Take it deep. Such a slut, baby, fill yourself up." She crooked her fingers inside him, against the slick smoothness of his inner walls. The lube dripped off of him onto her sheets, soaking the cotton. "You're so beautiful like this," she said before biting his earlobe and kissing away the sting. "My precious boy. You love this, you love being good for me."

She was almost up to the third knuckle now, and her wrist was starting to cramp. Stephanie gripped Tim close and thrust up with her hip, throwing him over and onto his back. She ended up kneeling between his spread legs. The momentum knocked her fingers loose, but she didn't hesitate to shove all three back up into him as far as they would go.

Tim squealed, his head thrown back into the pillows. The flush had spread down his nipples to his belly button, his cock full and heavy against his lower belly. He let out a steady chorus of "Ah-- Ah. Ah, ah!" as she found his prostate and rubbed down onto it.

"You're gonna come like this, aren't you? Come like this, untouched on my fingers. What would people think if they saw you, hmm? Spread out across my sheets, slicked up like a two-dollar whore, moaning." She kissed his belly, careful not to touch the purple head of his cock, weeping pre-cum into the dips of his abs as his balls drew up tight at the base. She bit his hip and sucked a hickey, twisting her fingers to hear the way he squeaked, a tiny high pitched keen. "I know what they'd think," she said, releasing her bite and admiring the indents of her teeth in his skin. "They'd be jealous of me, jealous of how good you are for me. Stand around the bed and stare at how gorgeous you are when you're strung out and naked."

Stephanie kissed up his sternum, lingering on his brown nipples, biting on the tips to hear him moan, a soft hitched hiccup of air. "Some day I'll just play with these," she whispered, kissing his nipple and biting it in turn, running the flat of her tongue over the ridge and following it up by scraping her incisor into the center of the aureola. Tim's breath shuddered out and she looked up in time to see the first tears start to fall. Tim stared up at the ceiling, tears trickling down the corners of his eyes toward his hair, neck and back arched and submissive. "Oh, Tim," she sighed, finally making the way up to kiss the corners of his mouth again, her fingers pumping deep inside of him.

His lips were still purple and bruised and swollen from the rough kisses from earlier, and Stephanie did her best to darken them. His eyes swept down to stare at her, all the numbers gone, the calm fog floating behind his irises. He was a live nerve, exposed and open, no thought except for the sensation of her skin on his, her fingers in his loose hole, her mouth leaving a trail of wet across his body. She flexed her fingers down and pressed into his prostate, milking him.

He watched her silently, eyelashes clumping together from crying, mouth open just enough that she could see the pink of his tongue, laying still against his lower lip. Then, as she milked him, forcing cum out without letting him climax, his breath hitched, and he started whimpering, a quiet whine that grew into a shuddering keen every time she passed her fingers over his prostate. Louder with every pass until he was wailing, eyes squeezed closed, head tilted back and howling at the ceiling like a dog. His cum spilled out of him in a long thread, slid milky white over his belly and pooled in his belly button.

"So good for me," Stephanie whispered, kissing the corners of his eyes and pulling her fingers free. His hole gave them up easily, loose and slack and wet. He gaped open slightly, and Stephanie tugged the edge, playing with the exhausted, swollen rim, watching him until his eyes opened, foggy and glassy, to stare at her, unblinking. No more tics. No more numbers. Tim snuggled into her, dipping his face to nuzzle her with his nose, warm and affectionate, pressing sloppy kisses to her mouth and cheek.

"...Holy fuck," Jason said from the doorway. Stephanie's back stiffened and she flicked the corner of the sheet over Tim's slack form, hiding his cock, the gape of his asshole, and bruised swollen nipples from the unwelcome intruder. Tim didn't blink, lazily following her gaze to the door, where Jason Todd stood, flushed, eyes blown, his jaw hanging open. Tim's let out a high keen, his head falling back as his hips thrust once, twice, and then he came dry, all breath knocked out of him.

Stephanie rose up on her knees, the long t-shirt falling down to cover her pink panties, flushed and furious. "Out!" she barked, pointing at the hallway. Jason blinked twice, his pupils blown, and flushed an embarrassed crimson.

"Oh, fuck!" he said again, spinning on his heel and slapping a hand over his eyes. "I am so sorry, I'll go--shit. Sorry!" He slammed the door shut after him, and Stephanie hovered for a second, one knee still on the bed, the other leg planted to run after Jason. Tim made a soft, questioning noise, his hand flopping to catch hers. She turned back and bit back curses at the worried frown starting to tug at his eyes and mouth.

Shit.

She couldn't leave him. Tim would drop like a fucking elevator, from sixty to negative hundred in zero seconds. Aftercare was always important but for Tim it was fucking vital.

Stephanie pressed her hand to Tim's cheeks and kissed him, slow and steady to let him know she wasn't angry with him. And she wasn't. Hell, she thought some threesome action with Jason could be hot. She also wasn't blind. Her boyfriend's raging crush on the older boy was kind of a neon sign that could be seen from orbit. Jason may have very well woken up Tim's sex drive way back when he was still wearing those kinky panties. And if Jason had walked in before Tim was in a full subspace drop, maybe she'd have invited him to stay, rolled Tim into her and let him see how good Tim could be, how precious he was, but when Tim was this deep she could tell him to light himself on fire and he wouldn't question it.

And Tim had just come dry, untouched, dammit. Half of her wanted to swing a thigh over his hips and ride him like a cowboy but not like this.

Not without talking about it and consent and rules and making sure Tim was okay with this and safe and... and Jason Todd had just seen Tim at his most vulnerable, when Tim didn't even have the walls up to tell him to go to hell, when Tim didn't have half the mindset to think about consent, or kinks, or yes or no or--Shit.

Fuck, he'd probably panic the moment he was up enough to realize what just happened.

Stephanie shifted them around until they were under the covers, Tim tucked against her side. Double-damn mother fucking shit on a Pogo-stick. This was the only time Tim relaxed enough to stop thinking. Stop the clicking and let himself float. And Jason just...Tim might never let himself go again.

She pulled off her top and kicked her panties away so she could press more skin against his to fight the inevitable skin-hunger, her hands running up and down his back, soothing him. Tim grumbled and curled into her, his nose pressed into the dip of her collarbone as he kissed her shoulder sleepily. Shit. Fuck. Damn. Fucking hell.

Stephanie turned over and grabbed her cellphone from the bedside table.

 _Hey, bastard_ , she typed with her thumb, the other hand wrapped around Tim's shoulders, fingers threaded through his hair. _First of all, what the hell? Secondly, you sure as fuck better still be in the living room where I can kick your ass the second Tim's taken care of. We need to talk._ After a second of tapping the cellphone against her bottom lip she typed out, _Also, make something for Tim to eat. Toast and orange juice would be great. And ice chips. You can leave it beside the door._

That taken care of, Stephanie tossed the phone across the room and pulled Tim closer, her lips against the top of his head.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course. Of course the first story I post on this site is porn. I've never actually written porn before, so forgive me if there are any gross inaccuracies.
> 
> I can't believe I'm doing this.
> 
> Please review?
> 
> (Runs away and Hides under a blanket)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jason and Tim flail over feelings and the author does not condone their inept flailing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that "sub drop" tag? Yeah, please read responsibly.

Jason Todd stumbled down the hallway, stubbed his toe on the red helmet he'd dropped in shock and hopped, cursing, into the living room where he tripped and slammed his hip into Stephanie's old granny sofa. Still cursing a steady stream of, "Fuck, shit, damn, _fuck,_ " he strode to the front door where he hoped to disappear into Gotham for the next seven years and never see Stephanie or Tim again.

Once he got there Jason stopped and pressed his forehead against the white wood, one hand wrapped around the handle, the other clenched at his side. He tried to forget everything he'd just seen. He needed to go. Instead, he stood still while his face burned.

Just like he stood there like a complete idiot while Tim and Steph had sex. Kinky sex. Really hot kinky sex.

Jason shook his head hard, the mortification so real he could feel his skin crawl. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to forget the stretch of Tim spread out over the sheets, the way Stephanie's hair fell down like a golden curtain, silky and smooth as filth fell from her pretty pink mouth, the twist of her wrist, her fingers in Tim's body, the way Tim's eyes locked onto him as he _moaned_ \--

Jason dug his fingers into his eyes. "Okay, okay. Jason. Go. Just go." He shouldn't be here. That was just...he'd just... that was so incredibly hot. He shouldn't have seen that. He shouldn't have stood there and _watched_.

But Tim was so beautiful. And Stephanie was so goddamn gorgeous. And he'd frozen in the doorway, his eyes fixed on everything he ever wanted laid out in front of him, don't look, don't touch.

Stephanie was furious, as she should be.

Jason yanked the door open and hurled out of the apartment before he did something he couldn't take back. He needed to get gone so they didn't feel crowded. He needed to be gone so they'd feel safe. Not that he'd ever--He would never-- but then, he'd never thought he'd just stand there watching either.

His phone buzzed just as he reached the second flight of stairs, a quiet chirp of birds, and Jason groaned, ducked his head and jumped down the flight, taking the next set at a near run.

He didn't want to check the text message. Another jump. He should check his text messages.

He dropped into the dark mouth of the stairwell beside the heavy metal door leading to the outside. Up above him on the fourth floor, right now, at this moment, Stephanie was probably cursing his name and Tim was definitely cursing his name and he was such a stupid fuck why did he have to watch?

God.

Jason pulled out his cellphone and bit his lip at the dark screen. Took a deep breath. Clicked the screen open. The first line, _Hey, bastard, first of all, what the hell?_ made him cringe and the rest wasn't much better.

Jason fell against the wall under the flickering light and tilted his head back, eyes closed. He knew he needed to go back. Stephanie deserved to tell him off. It was such a huge violation of trust and respect and boundaries, and she didn't even know.

She didn't even know how bad it was.

Right now this was just an embarrassing mistake. Like walking in on Bruce and Selina or ripping his pants sliding off a roof and going to Denny's with his ass hanging out the back. Embarrassing, awkward as fuck, but recoverable.

But if he went back up there... Jason wasn't a creature of silence. He shouted who and what he was to the world and dared it to reject him. Dared it to accept him. He didn't have it in him to look Stephanie in the eye while she was still covered in Tim's sweat and pretend that it was just a mistake, whoops, have fun kids, be safe.

Jason would look her in the eye and let the truth spill out, his carefully guarded daydreams spluttered into the open air to be mocked and finally, finally stomped on and killed.

Maybe he'd tell her about what really happened the day in the Library. The day he'd been talking to her about some college class, laughing over Stephanie's really, _really_ bad interpretation of _The Great Gatsby_ and teasing her about the pop-psychology classes she was taking to practice on the rest of the family. He said something about Freud and Bruce and she threw back her head and laughed and laughed, so bright and happy, her teeth white and her neck long and arched. He wanted, more than anything in the world, to close that distance and bite the chord of her throat.

He'd pictured, so clearly he could taste it, Stephanie spread out on the library table across her crumpled textbooks, her purple leggings pulled down to her knees, her shirt pushed up over her perky breasts, and his tongue up into her cunt, licking and sucking her as she bit her mouth pink and swollen trying to stay quiet.

He'd blinked twice and she was still sitting beside him with her hair pulled up in a messy bun held up by three forgotten pencils, yesterday's eyeliner smeared from rubbing her eyes, and he could feel the ghost her fingers gripping his hair. Jason's stomach fell because it wasn't an unfamiliar a thought. How long had he been longing for her? "Jason?" she said, eyebrow arched. Oblivious. "You alright, 'cause I just told you I think Bruce should consider teaching my class on Problematic Emotions and you didn't even laugh."

"I-" Jason licked his lips. God, he could taste her. "I forgot--a thing. I have a thing with Roy tonight. I have to go. Sorry."

"Wait," Stephanie said, nose flared, lips down, eyebrows furrowed. She dropped her hand to his elbow. "What did I say? Are you okay?"

"Yeah!" Jason said, too loud, standing up and breaking her grip. "I'm fine I just forgot that Roy and I are having this case thing tonight and I have to go-"

Stephanie perked up. "Can I help?" she asked, eagerly shoving her books into her backpack.

"No!" Jason barked. Stephanie's eyes widened and colored with hurt. She kind of crumpled for a moment like he'd punched her and Jason's stomach fell to his toes. "I mean--"

"That's fine," Stephanie said. She smiled with brittle edges. He saw the masks fall down between them as Stephanie straightened her steel spine and brass heart. "I get it. No one wants the screw-up, right? Your loss, hotshot. I'll have you know I'm a kickass partner."

Say something. Say something, Jason, you moron. "I want you--" anything but that! "--there, I do. But this is kind of personal between me and Roy."

"Sure," Stephanie said, pulling her backpack on. She didn't believe him. "I get it. Catch ya later."

Jason stood beside the cheap college library table, his hands folded into fists, watching her helplessly. He felt like ten kinds of a fool.

Jason knew himself. _To thine own self, be true_ might as well be his life words. Well, right beside _In the end we are all dead._ Or maybe _I am the prodigal son...I search for unconditional love where it cannot be found._

The point was, Jason knew where he stood in the great narrative of the universe. He was the rebel. The Punchline. The Lesson. _Look here_ , his life screamed, _look at what happens when you try to turn collateral damage into a good man._ In short, he wasn't the guy that people tipped their hats to. He didn't ride off into the sunset with a six-shooter on his belt and a fainting damsel with grit and a heart of gold perched on his motorcycle.

Jason knew his ending. In his long history of sex, there were only really three encounters that counted. Talia. Kori. And that one man in Rome with the million-watt smile who looked at him after they were done their business and said, easy as you please, "You're unhappy. You deserve to be happy."

Every single person who slept with him, ever, only wanted Jason as a substitute for someone else. Jason was a tool for their pleasure. A quick fuck to scratch an itch. No one wanted him enough to stick around.

And he was fine with that. He was! He didn't want Talia. And he didn't really want Kori. Kori was more than a bedwarmer, she was his best friend. She was awesome and cool, and kind, and way more than he deserved and she knew it. Talia was just crazy.

So there was no point wanting Stephanie.

Stephanie wasn't a quick fuck. Stephanie was the end game. For someone else. Someone who wasn't Jason.

It was as good as emotional suicide to play with the fantasy growing in morning daydreams, lying in wait for him to take notice. No one could get a taste of that smile, her unique flavor of bull-headed optimism, that sheer arrogant determination and not get drunk off of her. Stephanie didn't light up a room - she made the damn sun land in the middle and party.

_Well_ , he thought to himself, storming out of the library, _I just have to get it out of my system_. But he caught himself looking for pieces of her in the anonymous faces in the bars. He looked for her smile, her periwinkle shade of blue eyes, the outline of her back and carriage, the way she twirled a lock of hair behind her ear when she was flirting.

No one was bold enough. No one arched an eyebrow and called out his bullshit. No one paused when he said something vaguely self-deprecating and said, easy and friendly and firm, "Say that enough and you're gonna believe it. That would suck, Vermillion Helmet-hair, 'cause you're really awesome under all that bad-boy bluster."

It would be easier if she wasn't so damned good. Sunshine and grit in one package. She'd seen the worst of Gotham. She knew pain, fear, loneliness. Her lungs pulled in the same smog, the inky smoke of Crime Alley and the Projects that stuck to you and clung. And yet where Jason clawed out of his crucible spewing venom, Stephanie stepped into joy and staked her claim.

So he tried to avoid her. It was pretty easy because Gotham was a big place and she was avoiding him back. But Jason only had to hear her voice over the radio and the camera reel behind his eyes started rolling.

He could handle sex. Sex was easy. But it wasn't just sex.

No, interposed with the flashes of lust was the fantasy of curling up together on a couch. He daydreamed about slow dates on the rooftops, getting a dog and settling down, walking up to her in the kitchen and just letting out all his grief and anger and having her hold him tight. It was the daydream about being The One for her and her being The One back. She embodied the picket fence, two point five kids and a dog mixed with the concrete grit of the back-alley and street smarts.

And then Tim happened.

Here's the thing;

Tim came out of fucking nowhere.

One minute he was the bratty no-nonsense bastard Jason loved to hate and then literally he said something about burning down the world and ruling it with a firm, uncompromising fist before getting distracted by coffee and Jason was hooked. He had a type. He liked playful, capable women and deadly, sweet men who could destroy the world over breakfast. He knew it, alright?

He just hadn't realized _Tim_ hit all those buttons.

And then Cassandra caught Tim and Steph kissing on top of the Watchtower. Jason hated that he was jealous of both of them. At the same time, he couldn't deny a feeling of relief. Maybe now his fantasies would die down.

Ha.

Ha. Ha. Ha. No. No, they did not die down. Why would his brain do something nice like that? Instead, all Jason got was an upsurge of fantasies as his brain helpfully pointed out how well he'd fit between them.

All of which cumulated into Jason standing in a dark stairwell with his eyes squeezed closed. Stay? Or go. Probable rejection or a permanently closed door? He dropped his head forward and studied the toes of his leather boots. Stephanie wanted him to get food for Tim. It'd be kind of a dick move to interrupt grown-up fun time and skip out on a favor. Cowardly, really.

And no one called Jason Todd a coward.

Jason sniffed. Wiped his nose. He pulled his leather jacket straight. Tucked his hands into the pockets. Jason walked up the stairs like a man walking to his execution.

Shit.

* * *

 

Tim floated.

Warm. Comfortable. Steady. Stephanie's breath tickled the hair beside his ear. The inhale, the exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Even. Comforting. A steady metronome as constant as her heartbeat.

Steady.

Warm.

Comfortable.

He loved the way her skin stuck to his. Warm. Soft. He lay in a cocoon of sensation and every touch was Stephanie. Her breath in his nose. Her fingertips ghosting across his back raising goosebumps. Her heartbeat in his ear. The softness of her breasts against his clavicle and cheekbone. The vague ache between his legs where she'd touched him. He wanted to crack open her breastbone and tie his heart to hers, close her ribcage and trap himself within her.

Warm and safe. Comfortable.

At the end of the day when all the calculations were done, every tally compiled, and all possibilities exhausted, Tim knew one incontrovertible truth; there existed no reality where Tim Drake met Stephanie Brown and didn't fall irreparably and uncontrollably head over heels in love with her.

It was quiet here.

Not physically. A door opened and something rattled - a tray. With a glass on it. The smell of stale cigarettes. Stephanie said something, her voice low and firm. The air conditioner clicked into a cycle, blowing cool air to make him shiver. The covers rustled. Stephanie pulled them over his shoulder and her hand brushed down his side, warm heat like fire.

Noise. Data.

He couldn't turn off that part of him that noticed things but here he could mute the sharp edge that drew clues and ran the analyses and spun on and on and on until every part of Tim was rubbed raw and bloody by the sharp edges of his own brain.

His brain craved problems like a junkie craved the next hit. It chewed them up, ever hungry, every feasting, never satisfied. And when there wasn't a problem big enough it turned on Tim like a vicious hoard of wasps. It pulled out every failure, ever slice of darkness Tim wished he didn't have and ground them into his skin. Pressed his face down into his own muck and madness until he wanted to scream.

Somehow, Steph pulled him back. Pulled him into her. Stephanie embodied everything Tim loved about Robin. Hope. She planted herself in the sun and laughed at anyone who tried to drag her into the shadows. She chose joy again, and again, and again even when there was nothing to laugh about.

How could he _not_ love her?

Tim sighed and kissed the skin under his cheek. The world felt hazy at the edges so he slid his palms over the silk of her waist around to her back. Her scars made her skin bumpy and uneven, too smooth in long streaks and rough and knarled across her shoulder blade, a tapestry of texture unique to her. Her leg slid between his, his knee brushed where she was slick and warm and he moaned.

God, he loved the goosebumps rising up to meet him, the way his skin answered, warmth spreading from points of contact to the center of him, soft comfort in a place usually cold and alone. Stephanie laughed and tugged his ear, gently. "You coming up, babe?"

Yes. Probably. He recognized words now. His thoughts spun, slow and sluggish. Tim pouted. Couldn't he just lay here a little longer? Sleepy and warm and safe? He lifted his head enough to stare woefully at Steph. Stephanie laughed and kissed the mournful downturn of his lips. "Not there yet, but almost," she said to herself, tracing the bridge of his nose with a long calloused finger.

Tim dropped his head onto her shoulder and grumbled inaudibly, nipping her jaw when she laughed. His brain ticked faster and Tim's eyebrows furrowed. Stephanie kissed him affectionately but there was tension along her spine, her fingers heavy on his shoulder, tightening and loosening in even intervals. Grounding him.

Why would she be--

_Click, click_ said Tim's brain and the memory, present but unrecognized, hit him like a sledgehammer. Tim's body drew tight like a bow. Jason. Jason saw him. Tim saw Jason. Tim fucking climaxed with Jason in the door, oh God--

He gasped.

"Tim! Listen to me, Boy Wonder, you're okay. I'm here. I've got you. Breathe in with me." Stephanie's hand fumbled for his and pushed his palm against her breastbone. "Breathe in with me. And breathe out. Focus on me, Tim."

"Oh shit," Tim sputtered, trying to move heavy limps. Get up. Run. Hide. "He saw--he saw--" He shook his head viciously to clear out the last of the endorphins while his feet kicked free of the blankets. Panic, cold and then hot, surged through his belly to his throat. First, he wanted to throw up. Then he wanted to die.

"Tim, down!" Stephanie grabbed his shoulder as he exploded out of the bed. She gripped his forearm and twisted. Limbs shaky, Tim fell easily as she threw him on the bed and dropped her full weight across his back, pinning him into the pillows. He bucked against her, blind panic while his mind spun, all of the sharp knives aimed anywhere but somewhere he could use them, too high on the lingering endorphins to _think!_

Stephanie placed her forearm across the upper stretch of his shoulders and pushed him down. She kept her arm low enough not to choke him or bend his neck but the pressure kept him from drawing a deep breath. His air shortened, he couldn't draw enough oxygen to hyperventilate.

Unable to spin rational thought his brain latched onto sensation. It cataloged the vice-like clutch of Stephanie's thighs on his ribs, the weight of her on his back. Her hair fell like a curtain across his vision cutting off the sight of the room and trapping him with the smell of her. Citrus and some kind of pomegranate. "Count with me, Tim. One. Two. Three. Breathe. Hold it. And out, one. Two. Three. I'm here, Tim. I've got you. In, one. Two. You're safe. Three and hold..."

Tim fell into her rhythm as he scrambled for his walls, pulled up the barbwire needles of reason and training and--

\--And Jason saw him.

The memory replayed, again and again, foggy but complete. Jason stood in the doorway, mouth open, shoulders thrown back, chin high. Shocked. Tim saw Jason. Tim felt a surge of emotion - hot pride, lightheaded joy, icy lust. Look at _me._ See _me._ Want _me._ Please, _I love you_.

And he came.

Not for Stephanie.

But for Jason.

"I'm sorry," he told the pillow. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Stephanie asked, letting him up. Tim twisted and pulled away from her. Except for an aborted movement, she let him go. He pushed himself up the bed until he hit the headboard, a foot of space between them. She let him go. She knew. She let him go. Tim keened, low. Desperate. Alone. Stephanie rocked toward him. "I'm here, I'm here! I'm not leaving you, Tim. I just need to know where your head's at. Do you want me to touch you? Or do you need me to move away?"

Tim's mouth moved silently. How could he tell her? What did he say?

"Tim!" Stephanie snapped her fingers under his nose. "Give me a yes or a no. Do you want me to touch you?"

He shouldn't. But. "Please," he gasped breathlessly. "Please!"

"Please what, Tim!" Stephanie pushed her hand into her hair and smiled tightly, her knuckles white with the effort not to reach out. "I need a yes or a no, Tim." Her voice was hoarse from desperation.

"Yes. Please, yes--" Stephanie pulled him into a hug before he could force out the second _please_ and pressed their foreheads together.

"I've got you. I'm never leaving you, Tim. I am so proud of you. You did so well and you're doing great right now. I know you're scared and feeling really, really crappy but I swear you're gonna be okay. I'm good. I'm happy with you. I am so proud of you. I'm sorry you're feeling lousy right now, but you--"

He kissed her to shut her up. Stephanie let him, her lips unresponsive but soft under his. She broke the kiss gently. "Not right now, Tim. I'm calling yellow on this one, 'kay?"

"Right," Tim said shakily. "Okay. Okay."

"You with me?" Stephanie asked. Her hand tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck and held. "Ready for some math?"

"I'm with you," Tim wrapped his hands around her forearm and held on. "I'm just--endorphins. Emotional stuff. Not real. Just feels...Jason. Is Jason...?"

"Don't worry about Jason," Stephanie cut him off. "He's a big boy. He's fine. Kinda worried about us and kinda guilty for walking in on us, and really, really turned on and I shouldn't be talking about this right now."

"I'm sorry," Tim said again.

Stephanie paused. Her eyes narrowed at the corners. "Okay. I need some numbers. Fifty times fifty is--"

"Twenty-five hundred."

"Forty times forty is--"

"Sixteen hundred."

"Five hundred and forty times five hundred and forty?"

"...Two hundred and ninety-one thousand, six hundred."

And on they went, the numbers getting longer and more complicated until Tim settled back into his skin. Stephanie studied him as he rattled off answers, slowly drawing back until they sat facing each other Taylor-style, knees touching but otherwise apart. Tim watched her and pretended dread at the upcoming talk hadn't settled into his spine. Finally, the tension so thick Tim felt like he'd snap from the weight of it, he said, "Stephanie, I'm green, okay? I'm fine, I'm here. I need to know what's going on."

Stephanie's shoulder's relaxed, tension seeping out of her. "Do you want to get dressed? Take a shower?"

"To be honest, the anticipation for whatever we're going to talk about is killing me," Tim said. "And I think if we postpone it anymore I'm going to run out the window and hide out with Kon until my skin stops crawling."

"So... like a year." Stephanie quipped.

"Yep."

"Okay. First things first - how are you feeling? Not physically--" she said, rolling her eyes at his frown. "I mean here," she pressed her hand against his chest. "And here." Two fingers tapped his temple. "You keep apologizing. Why?"

Ah.

Hm.

_Click, click, click_ said his brain. _Tick tock_. _Tick tock_.

"Don't lie to me, Tim," Stephanie said, her face smooth and open. "Not about us. Not about this."

Damn. Tim bit his lip. "I--when Jason... are you..." Courage, Robin. He faced her squarely. "I ejaculated when Jason entered the room and I was thinking about him when I did it. Are you mad?"

"No," Stephanie answered. Tim's eyes fluttered, shutter shock of a camera. Capture the moment. Hold it. He waited for her to elaborate but she just sat there. Frustrating. Unnerving.

"Is... is that it?"

"Did you need me to say more?" Stephanie asked, shrugging. "You were wound up. I did a _really good job_ of winding you up, thank you very much. I'm kind of really, _really_ proud of how much I got you going." A smug sheepish grin. "We've never tested it but I'm pretty sure you've got some voyeuristic tendencies, stalker boy. So, Jason walked in at the perfect time when you were all gassed up and ready to go and happened to hit exactly the right trigger. Not your fault. And..." she tilted her head. "You love him."

Tim's breath caught, ice and pain, muscles locked. His heart stuttered - fact, not hyperbole. _Oh no oh no oh no_. "You've loved Jason in one way or another since you were ten," she continued. Stop, stop, stop. Don't say it. Don't say it. She hesitated. Watched him. Continued. "And you're _in_ love with him right now."

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

This was how Tim loved Jason: with the unceasing admiration of a child for his hero. With the fierce tenacity of a lonely soul shown warmth. With the gritty resignation of a man hurt and re-hurt who wished his heart would shatter once and be done with it. With titan strength that refused to break.

This is what Tim loved Jason for: for laughing when he jumped. For sarcastic comments at the wrong moment. For compassion and understanding for the worst of the undesirables. For his unrelenting, indomitable will. For anger that he let fly too easily. For the keen intellect hidden behind gruff words. For harsh truth. For vivid emotion and blatant hurt. For identifying a wrong and doing everything to make it right.

For being everything Tim wanted to be.

"I'm sorry," Tim forced out.

"For what?" Stephanie said. And that... worse. That hurt. He never thought she'd be so casual about him being in love with someone else. Didn't he matter? His face closed down, blank. He thought she loved him.

"Hey," Steph touched his knee. "I know you love me, Tim. You're mine. He can't have you. I'm not threatened by him because you are mine..." her confident voice stumbled, mask breaking. Stephanie's hand trembled. For all her confidence she was still the girl told, again and again, to _go home, little girl_ , you're not _good_ enough. Third best, last pick. She swallowed and her smile wavered at the edges. "...right?"

This is how Tim loved Stephanie: with the devoted affection of a best friend. With the rapturous delight of an unloved child wanted for the first time. With the hot and pervasive passion of a man guarding precious treasure. With the steel heart of a boy choosing her again and again. With the exhausted familiarity of a long time lover.

This is what Tim loved Stephanie for: for taking no shit. For brave jokes and braver call outs. For having every excuse for bitterness and choosing unceasing joy in the face of pain. For the vindictive venom she spat, rage and fury. For soft compassion without pity for Gotham's victims. For leaving him. For coming back different. For her flaws and her tells and how she stole his pillow.

For letting him stand with her.

"Yes," he gasped as his hand fell to cover hers. Relief was air after drowning. A warm blanket from the cold. A soft bed at the end of a sleepless week. "Yes, I love you. I'm _in_ love with you."

"Okay." She smiled brighter. "Okay. So what else are you feeling?"

"How are you okay with this?" Tim burst out. He didn't understand.

Stephanie shrugged. "I just am. Are you okay with it?"

He tilted his head, birdlike. "With what?"

"Well, I kinda thought you were in denial about the whole _"Jason Todd Mess"_ or at least pretending to be. Are you okay with me knowing? Are you okay with _you_ knowing?"

"Stephanie."

Not now. Couldn't think. _Thought too much too fast_. The question was irrelevant.

"Right. Water under the bridge. Moving on. Jason saw you vulnerable and you're embarrassed. Good embarrassed or bad embarrassed?"

Tim flushed. Stephanie followed the flush down his cheeks and chest to his navel and grinned. "Good embarrassed. I can work with that." She pushed his bangs out of his eyes and sat there, content to share the moment with him. "It's not either or, Tim."

"Don't promise me what I can't have, Steph," he replied.

Stephanie's face drained of laughter. He could see thoughts flying by in micro expressions but he wasn't coherent enough to interpret them. At last, she ruffled his hair and threw him a towel from the bedside table. "Take a bath. Jason left some food for you that I put on the sink in the bathroom. Eat. Listen to a podcast while you soak. Oooh, I have a new bath bomb! Tim. Tim! You've gotta try the bath bomb! Ple~ease? For me? Please? _Please?_ Yes! Okay, in the meantime, Jason and I are going to talk and when you're ready you can come out."

"What are you planning?" Tim asked as Stephanie crawled off the bed and hunted for her clothes.

"I think we've all been running around in circles," She said as she pulled on some purple yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. His. He recognized the Knights logo. "I think you love him, and I love you, and you love me, and I think I could love him too. And I think..." she trailed off and stepped over him on the bed. Tim let his head drop to rest on her sternum while her thumb rubbing his cheek. He was almost to sensitive to touch now, desperate for a moment of quiet to pull himself together but the point of contact felt good. Reassuring. She wouldn't leave him. "I think he could love me."

Tim thought of all the moments he'd caught Jason staring at Stephanie. The way Jason pointed his body toward her when she walked into the room like a flower greeting the sun. "I think he already does."

Stephanie grinned wild and ecstatic, dropping into a crouch on her toes to cross her forearms behind his head. "Green, then?"

Tim kissed her mouth and didn't mention the leg she'd forgotten; Jason didn't love Tim. But it was Stephanie. And it was Jason. And Tim took them any way he could. So he pecked her mouth twice and said,

"Green."

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't noticed, the final chapter count has gone from 3 to 4. Apparently, I am incapable of just writing straight up porn. No, seriously. This was literally going to be Stephanie telling Jason, "Hey, we think YOU're hot and you think WE're hot, wanna bone? Also snuggles!"
> 
> But no. Then Jason had to start emoting and Tim had a non-stop insecurity fueled panic attack and Stephanie didn't even get to address HER myriad of issues despite this being a long love letter to her so here we are. 5000 WORDS LATER and no boning. I have even MORE relationship stuff to write about Jason and Tim. Like. Seriously? WTH?
> 
> Apparently, I am not comfortable letting these guys into bed with each other until they talk about their 'feelings' and shit. Which is funny, because I actually disagree with how at least two of them define love but I AM DOING MY BEST to not turn this into a treatise on love and STAY ON TARGET.
> 
> ...this was just supposed to be porn...
> 
> Also, Jason Todd is REALLY FREAKING HARD TO WRITE when he's not being sassy and yelling at people so if you liked or didn't like or have suggestions on how to do stuff better, please let me know in the comments!


End file.
